A man appeared on the video, which was reasonably good quality, and spoke. His voice was slightly muffled because of the ski mask, and he was trying to conceal his accent by exaggerating a British twang. He had chosen his background well, as on first look there were no clues as to where he was.

“Mr Fisher, Mr Hammond and associated representatives of the Police Force. There follows a message and I urge you take it seriously. I would not say this in front of the hostages but they will die if our demands are not met. I cannot help but notice they are both attractive women, the kind that men dream of having on their arm and in their bed.”

The video picture faded and a new scene faded in. On the screen we could see Lavender and Dee either side of a long table with chains on their wrists. A disembodied voice spoke, again muffled and this time affecting a Mid Atlantic accent.

“As you can see, we have Lavender Fisher and Diane Fraser. We guarantee that they will both be returned safely, just as long as you have the police reach an agreement with Lord Hickstead by Monday at six in the evening.”

I was taken aback. Who was Diane Fraser? The others looked puzzled, too. We couldn’t dwell on the anomaly at that moment, however, as a nervous Lavender began to speak to the camera.

“Dad, I’m so, so sorry. I caused all of this. I promise that if you make the police do as these men say, I’ll give up the celebrity lifestyle and take that office job on the first floor.”

“What job?” Don Fisher blurted.

But any conversation was curtailed as Dee spoke.

“Josh, please don’t go into print with your statement. Press the police to agree to the terms these guys want. If you don’t, you’ll find your next opposition right here.”

It was my turn to say “What?”

The second kidnapper spoke from behind the camera again.

“Remember, Monday, six o’clock, or you never see either of them again.”

***

As soon as the video ended there was a flurry of activity, and analysts were poring over every work spoken for clues.

“Mr Fisher, Josh, let me start by saying that at Vastrick we train all of our operatives in surviving hostage situations. Just like the military, we use certain key words and phrases that signal useful pieces of information. After that, it’s up to the ingenuity of the hostage, and Dee is ingenious, believe me. I know because I’ve watched her in action. Now, can I have your initial thoughts on what we just saw and heard?”

I spoke out first.

“The very first thing that puzzled me was the way the man called Dee, Diane Fraser. I can’t explain that. Why give a false name?”

“I think I know,” Levi said, staring at his screen where a picture of a young woman was prominent. “The Vastrick database has thrown up a reference to a former case where we recovered a cult member after her parents made a donation to ‘The new world order for tranquillity’.”

“I remember that case,” Tom Vastrick interrupted, frowning. Obviously it hadn’t ended well. “The cult leaders said if the parents paid half a million pounds in donations, they would excommunicate their daughter and expel her. The parents paid up, and our operatives were directed to an industrial unit where we found Diane Fraser fit and healthy and angry, having been chained up. Sad thing was, after a month she went straight back to the cult. It was probably a ploy. OK people, analysis please.”

A voice came over the speakers.

“Tom, this is Luke. As there is no cult involvement here, could it be that Dee is sending us a message that she is being held in an industrial unit?”

Tom looked around the table, and Boniface and Coombes both nodded their agreement with the analysis. We moved on to Lavender’s statement, and Don Fisher spoke up.

“I don’t know what the girl is on about. I’ve never offered her an office job and our offices don’t have a first floor, anyway.”

“I think she’s a clever girl,” Coombes commented. “Surely she means that they are being held in a first floor office. So far we have them in an industrial unit, with two storey offices, and they’re on the first floor.”

Boniface leaned over and squeezed the DCI’s shoulder. DCI Coombes beamed as the table accepted his analysis. The door opened and a full printed transcript was given to everyone. We were then told that the video stills were being printed. Boniface took the lead for a moment.

“Josh’s statement was taken days ago, and he signed it in Dee’s presence. It would seem to me that the first part, about going into print, must also be a coded message.”

We all pondered what it could mean, and the analysts set algorithms away that would analyse all possible meanings of the words.

“Luke again,” the speaker chirped. The computer is showing that the word ‘print’ can be associated with the word ‘press’ in the next sentence, as in ‘printing press’. This could be code for Dee telling us that the industrial unit houses a printing press.”DCI Coombes and Inspector Boniface whispered to one another before Coombes said in a loud voice, “DS Scott, are you still sitting with the voice analysts at Scotland Yard?”

“Yes, Guv. We can hear and see everything that’s going on.”

“Good. The Inspector and I would like you to run a check on all print companies inside the M25. Don’t bother with print shops, just the ones operating out of industrial premises. Oh, and see if we’ve had any suspicions or reports on any of them.”

“OK, Guv, I’m on it now.”

We all looked at the next section of the transcript, and Tom continued.

“So, we know that Dee thinks that there are at least four men holding them, did everyone see that?” Everyone nodded but me and Don Fisher.

“Run that part again, Levi,” he said, seeing our puzzlement. “Watch her hands.”

Dee had been sitting with her hands in closed fists, and as soon as she said the words “these guys”, she opened her right hand and tucking her thumb underneath tapped the table gently with four fingers.

I didn’t know who was cleverer, Dee for coming up with it, or the detectives in the room who noticed that imperceptible movement. Along with a strong feeling of pride in Dee I also felt a quick stab of pain at the loss, no matter how temporary, of the woman I loved.

***

Things had been going well and everyone was exuding a confidence and bravado that lifted Don Fisher’s spirits and my own, but then they faltered. The clumsy phrasing of Dee’s last sentence obviously meant something, but neither the analysts nor the computer had a reasonable interpretation of what it meant.

They all turned to me. Inspector Boniface voiced the opinion of them all.

“Josh, we think this message is specifically meant for you. She deliberately says:

“If you don’t, you’ll find your next opposition right here.”

I guessed that they were right, but other than the obvious meaning that the kidnappers would be my opponents if I didn’t persuade the police, I couldn’t see what else it could be.

“Luke again. The computer has these suggestions for ‘your next opposition’. First a political opposition, which given the fact that he is a Labour Peer seems most likely. Second a sporting opposition, an individual or team attempting to overcome you.”

How could I have been so dense? I put it down to tiredness and stress. A light went on in my brain, and suddenly I knew what it meant.

“Thanks, Luke. Sporting opposition is exactly what it means. Today at West Ham, Dee and I watched as they lost to Chelsea. West Ham have now gone four games without a point, so everyone was saying we must win our next home match, where the opposition is Tottenham Hotspur.”

***

It was now nearly two in the morning, and computers were working overtime, looking for printing companies in the vicinity of Tottenham. There were six possibilities and so Levi typed in the first address provided by DS Scott from Scotland Yard.